An Ode to my Hood: Barceloneta

When I found this poem about Barceloneta, I simply had to share it. It paints a vivid image of my beautiful neighbourhood, especially the smell. An exciting mix of fried fish and suntan lotion. For me, the smell of happiness.

Barceloneta by the beach, sun, sea, hot sand at your feet

Colourful umbrellas, sombreros facing the sun

Filled with people having fun.

Palm trees that adorn this place

Showing its beautiful face

Boats cruising along and people singing a song

Some drinking a glass or two

Naked men a few to view

The smell of tortilla seeping through

Paella, Mariscos by the plate full

Ice-cream to keep you cool

Filled with sunshine and hot days

For everyone to enjoy the sun rays

A cerveza to keep one cool

Suntan lotion don’t be a fool

Ladies showing their breasts

Not always looking their best

Sunhats, flip flops and balls

Makes this a sunny spot for all.

Barceloneta is filled with fun

There’s something for everyone.

(the poem's from here)

I wake up to the sound of guitars - buskers here go into the restaurants and bars, play a lively song and collect loose change. In quick pursuit the rose sellers arrive, followed by an African gentleman who's wooden carved bracelets are yours for less than the price of a cañita (beer).


A couple of minutes later the neighbours are up too: salsa music blares through open doors and windows. The kids run into the street to play with their new puppy, dodging the occasional car as their mamá's smoke and gossip, sitting on the curb.

Spain is severly affected by the crisis, our unemployment is well over 22% (that's almost 5 million jobless), but you'd never tell in Barceloneta: it's noon and the bars are packed with throngs of friends. Old men read the newspaper on benches, soaking up the sun like lizzards and checking out the skimpily dressed Swedish gals.

Mid-afternoon and the tourists make an appearance. I'm in love with their glowing faces. They pour out of the restaurants, tummies full of paella and seafood, smiling at each other before heading for the beach. It makes me happy that my neighbourhood brings so much joy. The authenticity smacks you in the face: we hang our washing outside for all and sundry to see. And that's not the only laundry we put out to dry: youths zip about on motorbikes yelling from street to street: I happen to be in on all manner of intimate details pertaining to my colourful neighbour La Vane, and her friend La Jessi. I could listen all day. Sometimes I do.

My husband and I can't resist the smell of mussels and garlic any longer; "grab the keys love, come on!"

PS. Some pics!

My street! Sant Carles

Maians Bar: the best mussles and red wine in the world.
About, mmm, 3 metres from my front door. Yes, we eat a lot of mussles. 

Promenade. Pic taken the day we moved here! 

Yep: the washing's out to dry alright. 

I promised guitars!
Oh, and the dog? Yes, here they're allowed as long as they behave. 

One of my top three favourite bars.
Magical décor. If fairies existed they would have champagne and strawberries here. 

Taken from our balcony.
I can see the sea!! :)